Hollow or Not but Ash
by The Behemoth
Summary: Long ago there was a man named Davy Jones that was cursed with his wildest dream. Davy Jones x Calypso


**Author's Note: **I can't believe this is the first fan fiction I have ever written in about three years. Clearly that fact alone tells you how much in love I am with this movie.

**Pairing: **Davy Jones / Calypso

**Rating: **PG-13, borderline R

**Summary: **Long ago there was a man named Davy Jones that was cursed with his wildest dream. These are the short moments in both the lives of a man and a goddess. Right up until the end.

**Disclaimer: **Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Disney.

* * *

**Hollow or Not but Ash**

_By: The Behemoth_

* * *

_  
I am the way I am._

Calypso had no qualms with sharing her passion with several men at a time. The quick fluttering of an eye, paired with the slower jerks of a hip was all too familiar and easy to her, all flowing together into unrecognizable events and all men melding together into one being that could offer pleasure. And just like the sea, their evenings would wash away into the dusk and inevitably flow elsewhere, lacking direction or purpose. It was the only familiarity she wished to have access to, perhaps even the only one she _could_ access truly…because that's just the way she was.

_Damn Davy Jones. _Damn Davy Jones because he was different. Damn him because he fell in love with the Sea before he even met Her. She was never a blind fool in all of her existence: the worn and faulty façade men wore never bore itself on Davy, who first appeared to her nearly transparent and holy in his pureness.

Oh, a passion for Davy Jones was like a passion of no other—nights together first appeared to be only ephemeral events disjointed in the grand reality of their existence. But soon, she could not bear a week without taking hold of his scent, a wind-blown kind of salty aroma that clung to his hair and skin. She would become fearful of losing the image of his face, even though a goddess never forgets a face. The daily trappings that plague the average human soon became part of her life as she constantly missed his watery eyes that seemed to be bewitched by something far, far off on the horizon. There simply was never a man like Davy Jones, one who could make a goddess _tremble_ in glorious pain just by gazing straight into her as if she were as clear as the sea itself.

Damn Davy Jones because without even trying, he was forcing her to be something she was **not**.

"_Davy Jones, are you leaving me?"_

They were huddled on the dock, her hand gripping his forearm far tighter than she intended. He simply pulled her closer and breathed into her, their weak heartbeats thrumming gently against each other.

"_I will be back. And when I come back, you will be—"_

"_Here. Right here. I always will."_

Davy nodded quickly and released his hold on her for a brief second, only to be met with a low cry. She was wrapped up into the warmth again.

"_No—I don't want—" _He was holding her again, almost fearful. The embrace was painful, and yet she hung onto him just as hard for that small second longer, wishing away that force Time had against both of them, propelling them into opposite directions.

"_You have to go." _Davy Jones always has to go, just as Calypso always has to go. At least he had a choice.

This time he dropped his arms heavily and spun around on his heel. He mindlessly rubbed the bottom of his nose with his index finger and walked away towards the ship, head locked straightforward every second during his march until he finally disappeared into the vessel.

-----

He often wondered if she was watching him out at sea on the merchant vessel, carefully tousling his hair with the wind or perhaps bringing the dolphins to the sides as some sort of sign of her proliferation when he wasn't around.

Finding a god was not as shocking as he thought it would be.

He had come up to her, interested in her divination practices, only to bore his eyes into hers and see the limitlessness inside.

"_Aye," _he said, almost chuckling.

The supposed Voudoun practitioner pursed her lips in a disgusted way that almost seemed to hint at a possible spitting. _"You're too wise of a man. You can see straight through me, as I can through you…"_

At that moment she knew him and he knew her; neither could walk away leaving it just at that.

He supposed she always found resonance with the Haitian slaves and constituents of the western part of the isle, her human form always resembling their appearance. He supposed she silently mourned for any soul that had not the freedom she enjoyed, and hoped to embody their boxed pain with her appearance. Though he never would have thought it possible before, she first appeared as one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life. Deeply grounded in the earth and water. She was carefree yet so sure of her place in the world, a trait he had never seen in any woman beforehand.

Davy Jones knew he was an idiot when for the first time in his life he wrote a love letter. _A _l_ove letter! _He had been in a relationship or two; both a fine lass. Awkward correspondence occurred between two souls in calf love, maybe, but he had never exchanged true passionate words with another woman through writing.

The first time he wrote her she laughed at him, just like he knew she would. It was a throaty laugh, the only kind she could give in her luster. With her hand she teased the parchment under her chin and across her chest before saying, _"You are de most precious thing dat I have ever had." _She had written him always after that.

Often questioning, Davy wondered why Calypso could not simply visit him on his voyages. He had seen her change into the sea many times, once simply walking into the water and melding into the liquid. He had asked her once and she seemed to tease him with her evasiveness.

"_Why don't you ever meet me at sea, Calypso?"_

"_I am de sea, lover,"_ she said slyly, her lips curling playfully.

"_I mean, in your form like this…I could see you more often. Did you know that you have cursed me so that the only reason I look forward to docking is to see you? If you visited me, we wouldn't have to suffer for so long while waiting—"_

And it was there she would become stubborn. _"We meet when we can meet. I cannot keep myself up to something so hard as visiting you on de seas…"_

Davy's heart would ache whenever she became that way, but it was her way. It eluded him why she **had** to be this way, so disconnected from the idea of true commitment, as if she could not even begin to entertain such an impossible notion. After his constant frustration as well as the sadness he would bring upon Calypso whenever he mentioned such ideas (_"Why not let tings be as be?"_), he had no choice but to accept the course their lives went. Such was the life of a goddess and a mortal; it was changing and turbulent. It exhilarated him and sorrowed him, both emotions mixing together into an ecstasy-filled flurry whenever they would meet and depart.

-----

"_Can I show you something?"_

They had rented out a room and were huddled on the bed. She had laid out an assortment of items, ranging from gnarled sea shells to empty tortoise and snails shells, paired with a group of crab's claws and thinning bones of several unidentifiable fish. She picked up an empty snail shell and pointed to the faint markings on it.

"_When a soul dies at sea, dey are lost and must find de afterlife all alone." _She twirled the shell between her thin fingers. "_Sometimes these souls get confused and embody other things." _

She took his hand and forcefully grasped it around the shell. His eyes widened after a few moments.

"_It's warm."_

"_It is. Dis soul has been lost for a long time…" _Her voice was hollow and far away. _"But I keep what I can safe wit me."_

"_Can't you help them to the afterlife?"_

"_If I did, I know it would be an eternal job..." _Calypso found a sudden sickness in herself.

-----

Dear Davy,

I can only wish that I could make beautiful music like you. The best I can do is to give you this: a locket in the shape of a creature dear to me and representative of what is dear to us.

Calypso

-----

_I did not want to end up like this again._

Davy Jones had a goal in mind. He had come into port and knew just where to find her, and in all of her glory he would reject her like he _should_ have done those dozens of times before. Too much inconsistency…He had seen it and tried to keep it at bay. He failed. He would save himself, finally, from anymore of the natural failings that come from such useless dreams of men.

But here he was once again.

He had buried himself into everything she was, face deep into the dreaded locks cascading down her smooth shoulders, his thumbs rubbing aimlessly against the hips pressed against his own. She opened her mouth, her lips parting with a soft wet smack, and she had begun to murmur deliriously against him.

Not for one moment had he doubted the effect of her godliness. He had always wanted to believe she purposely drew himself to her through heavenly means, though her seduction appeared no more or less human than any other woman. She was coy and her brown eyes had flickered in the light of her makeshift tent those few years ago. "_Do you want to know me, Davy Jones?"_

A few colza oil candles lit the room dimly, allowing Davy only to see a glowing outline of Calypso's arching form on top of him; he felt a shallow breath shudder inside of her chest before she became limp against him. Instinctively he pulled his calloused hands up to the small of her back and rubbed gently, mentally rebuking himself for rubbing such rough fingers against her.

_She has changed in some way…_Such thoughts began to drift in and out of his mind precariously as he found her hot weight against himself reducing him to becoming somnolent. An hour could have passed before her soft voice came drifting to his ears through the darkness, airy as if he were in a dream.

"Am I such a bad lover dat I put you to sleep?" Calypso had pulled herself off of him and was resting her bicep against one of the cool pillows on the bed. She placed her chin in the cup of her raised hand.

"No," Davy breathed. "You're just an exhausting lover." And it was true, even if it could have been interpreted in more ways than one.

She seemed to take no offence as she responded with a soft purr. "Maybe you're so lost in dis dat you can' say anything negative even if you so wished." Her dialect was heavy and drawling.

Davy took in a sharp take of breath. "And what is it that I am lost in, Calypso?"

She grinned at him—that curve in lips he'd seen too many times, often signaling mischievousness rather than plain happiness. "Lust?"

"Calypso…" His voice was hushed and sad. He turned his attention to the dark ceiling, fluttering his eyes in disappointment.

She must have picked up on his dissatisfaction, for she forcefully turned his head to face her again, features serious and cast in shadow.

"Do you know dat I care about you more dan anything?"

"And I…" He trailed off. Before even realizing she took hold of his shoulders, she began to deftly cover him with kisses, pressing hard onto his mouth and cheeks.

"Davy Jones, I _love_ you!" She growled it deeply, eyes heavily lidded. Doubt fled from his mind as her kisses were returned, this time at a much slower rate. She drank him in, impressing the words into his head unendingly through her own power.

A few minutes passed before Calypso turned her head from Davy, his lips landing on the side of her neck. There was a loud creaking noise outside the door that quickly dissipated into the night.

"We should be leaving soon," she said softly.

"I know." Davy began to run his fingers through the soft patches of hair on his head, him feeling for the first time during their encounter wondering what the time was.

"When do you tink we could meet again?" Calypso whispered.

"Not sure. I have several short stops further north…north east from here before we turn back 'round." His accent was thick in the drowsiness of the room.

"Mmm." She bit her lip. "I should probably ask you now, den."

He had already thrown his heavy legs across his own edge of the bed, begrudgingly putting back on his boots. The visits were too short. "Tell me what?"

"I want you to know dat I have never met a man like you…A man who loved de seas so much." She continued. "A man who would give everything to stay on de seas."

Davy rolled his neck on his shoulders, small cracking noises disturbing the silence. "Isn't it interesting that while I'm not on water, I am with water?"

She grinned. "Precisely. Which is why I have a favor to ask of you. You, de only one who would do such a ting for me…" Davy pulled himself back onto the bed to get a good look at Calypso's downcast face.

She brought her head back up, eyes glazed over. "I want—I want to know—"

"Yes?" He brought his hand up to touch her face, only to be met with her opposing hand.

"If you would spend an eternity wit me." Davy had spent plenty of moments with the goddess to understand almost every minute movement of her body, and at the moment her eyes spelled a sense of disbelief and grasping hopefulness.

He remained silent. Calypso busied herself with her stomach, which she had begun to rub uneasily with her free hand. He was steadily boring his eyes into her, heat rising to her face in awe of his intensity. She diverted her eyes.

"Calypso," he said hoarsely, almost sounding old. "How could we?"

"Remember when I told you of de drifting souls who cannot make it to de afterlife? I can' stand feeling de sadness in de ocean _no longer_." She began to shake her head fervently. "Dey do not even realize their loneliness. I have to help. For an eternity. And I can' leave without you."

She could see the fear in his eyes and immediately sought to soothe him. "I will give you a boat. And we will sail together, forever. But only if you love me so, Davy."

She had just cursed a man with his wildest dream.

-----

"**What have you done to yourself, Calypso?"**

I don't know, I don't know! She flailed around in the sea helplessly, her very frame aching in pain.

"**Why are you not barren anymore, Calypso?"**

She arched her head back and cried out, clenching her torso. She soon found herself in a shallow pool, darkness creeping on the edges of the waters around her, the sky grumbling with the formation of thunderheads.

I didn't want this at all, I really didn't. I tried, I tried—

"**You did not, you did not."**

I willed it…The pain shot through her body once more. Her heavy pants echoed off the waters into the nonexistence abyss beyond it. Her thick locks spread out behind her skull like an elaborate mane, her head lolling back into the wetness weakly. Her mouth was partly open as her pantings calmed down to a dull sigh.

The life that was inside of her shifted, her pain returning once again. How long, how long?

"**Cleanse yourself of it."**

She croaked and flipped her head forward, burying herself headfirst into the water. She inhaled the substance deeply, feeling the strange relaxation invade her body, the same kind of relaxation the drowned felt right before they died. Or so she liked to think.

Oh, what would _he_ think? He would be happy, I know it. And I could learn to be happy and accept it.

"**You cannot."**

Calypso's mind resisted and ventured towards the impossible: an eternity with a lover, with no more of her volatile and mysterious actions. But if there was no volatile woman, there was no Calypso. And there could be no Davy Jones if there was no Calypso.

A cruel and changing paradox. She could not help it. It pained her once more and she grasped her sides, finally biting down on her tongue.

"**Cleanse yourself of it."**

It pooled around her. _It_ had never happened to her before, and she supposed it only happened through a moment of careless pure happiness. It was dark and red; it was blood. It flowed out from between her and she moaned not in pain but in feeling the life inside of her drain, slowly, drop by drop into the sea.

Davy Jones is too much for any goddess to handle, she decided.

Afterwards she could only drift around aimlessly as she made her way back into the mortal world. She was no longer a woman but an ethereal _thing. _But even when ethereal the water echoed off of her because now she was hollow.

-----

_Why are you crying, Davy? _She knew why but wanted to pretend.

"Why for so long?" His face was wet but not from the water around them. His fingers furiously ran through her scalp, searing lines of pain plaguing her. But she stood stolid. For the first time he had seen her lips blessed not with the usual devious smile, but with nothingness. Her eyes had lost their glow and instead were dark and heavy-lidded.

"It has to be dis way, love."

"It does _**not**_." He was delirious. "Why did you suddenly decide to do this?" His uniform was now sopping wet with the sea. "Why do you have to do this to me?"

"It is only ten years—"

"In ten years I will be an old man!"

"You won't." She clenched her eyes, for now he was tightly gripping her shoulders. "You will be immortal de moment you leave me for your ship."

"But _why _for so long? Can't I—can't I at least visit you during these ten years?"

"I can' allow it. You can' step foot on land until de time is up. You will keep to your duty and ferry lost souls."

He looked horrified.

Her head turned away from him, eyes burning. She pulled from under the front of her dress the crab locket; she shoved it into his face. "Look at dis, Davy Jones!"

She heard sobs and wasn't sure if they were coming from her or the shaking man before her.

"When ten years has passed, dis locket will play a different melody. Hand me yours and it will do de same."

He gave her the locket and she clenched it in her hand for a moment. Nearly forcefully, she placed it back into his hand, his palm almost scalding from the heat of the enchantment.

"Why ten years?"

"I NEED ten years!" Trembling and a mess she grasped her forehead, moaning. "I can't _do _tings like you! I am not human, Davy Jones, and you had best to learn dat _quick!"_

He wheezing now, and for a moment she feared he may have been sick. She stared him straight in the face. "Do you love me dis much, Davy? That you can put up with all dat we have? Put up with Calypso and her ways?"

He was still for the longest time before nodding slowly.

"And I promise, on everything dat I am, I will _meet you here again. _Right here on dis island. And I will give my heart to you forever. Do you hear me?"

"Do you promise me that, Calypso?" He was deathly quiet in his words, face red. "Do you promise that after ten years you will be right here waiting for me, and the moment I meet with you we will be together forever?"

"I do."

He pressed his face into hers mindlessly. "If you aren't here when I come back, I don't know what will happen to me."

"I will be here."

She pressed her lips against his and they stayed that way for the longest time, the cool air wafting over the waters chilling them both.

He turned around and walked through the water, the level steadily rising before it passed above his head. The Flying Dutchman waited to be risen from below the depths, a ship destined to never come home.


End file.
